


Jump Start

by Paian



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 5000-10000 Words, Alien Planet, Alien Technology, Aliens Make Them Do It, Cliche, Community: jackdanielpromptfic, Dubious Consent, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Hand Job, M/M, Season/Series 05, offworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-08
Updated: 2009-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paian/pseuds/Paian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the aliens didn't expect this to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump Start

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2009 Jack/Daniel Clichéathon at [Jack/Daniel Prompt Fic](http://jackdanielpromptfic.dreamwidth.org).

Jack hunched over his groin. "Fuck," he choked out, and went slowly to his knees in the blue-tinged dirt. "What the _fuck_ ... "

"It's not an attack." Daniel was on his knees too. Daniel was covering his groin with both hands too. He jabbered something in the aliens' language. The aliens jabbered back. It didn't sound promising. When Jack swiped the zat off his belt and raised it to add a statement of his own, Daniel slapped a hand onto his forearm and pushed his aim down. Through the thick fabric of his sleeve, he could feel the contours of Daniel's palm like a tingling glow, the undulating shape of every line in it like a writhe of energy. Daniel shifted the hand fast, because he'd overstepped or because he felt it too -- moved it up to dig fingers into the shoulder of Jack's jacket. To balance himself, to shut Jack up; Jack couldn't tell.

He couldn't think; he could barely see. Whatever the fuck these people had just zapped them with, it had gone straight through his balls, straight up his ass, straight into his prostate. He should be coming. He fumbled the zat back onto its clip and clutched his crotch as if he'd been groin-kicked and couldn't understand why he wasn't coming. He could still feel the imprint of tingling warmth in his arm. The hand fisted at his shoulder trembled. Daniel's touch made it better and a thousand times worse. Every forbidden fantasy he'd had in the depths of night, in the privacy of his own mind, where it was supposed to be safe --

"Let -- go -- of me," he managed. He fought for control. He knew how to control his response to pain. He knew how to control himself against psychological manipulation. He knew how to control himself in bed. This wasn't any of those things. But control was control. He had some, somewhere. Fuck. _Fuck._

Daniel didn't let go; Daniel had barely heard him. He was still talking to the aliens. Asexual humanoids, looked androgynous, didn't show much recognizable emotion. Reproduced mysteriously; possibly just immortal, who the hell knew. Took sensual pleasure in touch, were apparently empathic, maybe partly telepathic. Willing to trade technology, gave Carter a bunch of stuff she said looked cool. For the first, good-faith batch of stuff, they'd asked nothing in exchange except that he and Daniel stay behind for a few hours while she checked it out back at the base.

Daniel had thought it was for cultural exchange.

"What's going _on_, Daniel," he sang through gritted teeth.

"I'm -- _trying_ to figure that _out_, OK?" Daniel said something else, by turns grinding and halting, to the trio of ... not men, not women ... representatives standing a few yards from the gate. Beyond them was a crowd, eerily silent, macabre. Just watching, with their passionless faces. These people gave him the creeps _before_ they zapped him.

While Daniel tried to figure it out, Jack tried to get a handle on the sensations. Felt like a vibrator stuck up his ass, one of those rabbit things with ears so it could jolt his testicles too. He'd never stuck a vibrator up his ass. Stroked one up his perineum once, nearly went through the roof, never did it again. Couldn't tell if he was actually hard; stimulation was too intense, a humming blur from belly to thighs. He groped up the front of his BDUs, found a rigid boner. The pressure of his own fingers felt so good that his legs went weak. Maybe if he came it would stop. He rubbed two fingers into the bulge of his glans and almost sobbed with the pleasure of it. He rubbed harder, circling, biting down on a groan, then pressed the sweet spot. Should be like pushing a button, PRESS HERE TO EJACULATE. All it did was make him twice as desperate to come, and make the vibrations twice as agonizing.

He moved the hand to his P-90.

Daniel gripped his shoulder harder. "Don't shoot. Please don't shoot."

"If I could _shoot_ maybe I'd be _OK_!" Jack shouted. He brought up the weapon that had bullets in it. "Tell 'em to stop."

"They can't. It's done now. They can't stop it."

"Get up." He drove himself to his feet. Hauled Daniel up. Daniel stumbled sideways. Jack caught him. Dragged him toward the DHD. "Keep talking. I'm dialing."

Daniel talked; the aliens talked back, with their silken, inhuman voices, all three of them in unison.

"Jack. Stop. Crap. Stop dialing."

"Why?"

"Because it'll kill us. What they did -- we won't survive a -- a transit through the wormhole."

"So they say."

"You want to test it?" Daniel snarled at him.

"How about I get a medical team in here to test it? And maybe stick us with something that'll -- "

"They won't let anybody help us. They'll close their gate shield and they won't let anyone through, even if you hold a gun to one of their heads."

Jack pulled his trembling hand back from the DHD. He didn't clear the partial address he'd entered. "Why can't they stop this?"

"There's only one way to stop the, the process. It's like some kind of, I don't know, neural reuptake inhibitor, augmenter, once it's activated -- "

"There's a device?"

"I think so. That thing the middle one is holding."

"And if I blow it to hell?"

"It won't make any difference."

Jack shoved away from Daniel. He moved toward the one on the end, who backed away but showed no fear; Jack made as if to lunge after that one and at the last second snatched the device from the middle one's hands. He tossed it into the dirt, ran a few rounds through it. It exploded in a satisfying rain of shards that probably should have taken someone's eye out. Not as good as coming. But close. Except it didn't stop what was happening to his body.

All the aliens had taken a step back. Now they took a step forward again, all together. They didn't look pissed, or afraid, or anything else. They just looked.

Jack didn't look over his shoulder at Daniel. "What do they want from us?"

Daniel came up beside him, bent forward, mincing. "Knowledge. Empirical data. They want to understand something about what makes us tick. How we ... connect with each other. I'm not sure how it all fits together. Maybe they want an empathic hit off our sexuality. It's ... a test. They test each other with that thing. Some kind of rite of passage. Community ritual. I don't understand it, since they don't have sex organs. It must work differently on them."

"Did you understand any of this when Carter took that stuff?"

"Yes, Jack, I understood that whoever stayed behind would have invisible vibrators shoved up their asses and be forced to have sex for an audience of empathic voyeurs, that's why I -- " Daniel stopped.

Jack finally looked at him. He was pale, sweating, pupils dilated. Not shaking as much as Jack was. "So the antidote isn't orgasm. It's sex."

"They used a word that's a trebly intensified form of the gerund 'joining.'"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He started toward the nearest structures with a vague thought of finding some private place, and a bunch of the aliens moved to block his way. No more access to their weirdass polyceramic villages until trade relations were officially established, they'd said. Guess they meant it. He raised his weapon, just to see. They stared back, implacable. Maybe a hundred of 'em, all told. He could take out about half before the rest mobbed him and got Daniel. Not good enough. For all he knew, they could fry his brain as easily as zap his prostate.

Swearing a blue streak, he unclipped his weapon, turned his back, laid it down, and opened his pants. Heard jabbering from behind him; ignored it. Reached for his dick.

The first touch of his own flesh sent him back to his knees. The agony was intense. Flamethrower, acid -- hard to say exactly. Didn't suppose it made much of a difference. Agony was agony.

He took a minute to catch his breath, grinding his teeth against the waves of stimulation flowing through his ass, his intestines, his balls, the correlations and contradictions of pain and pleasure. He wasn't feeling it in his dick. Why zap his balls and prostate and not his dick? Trying to force arousal through secondary erogenous zones but isolate the part that triggered orgasm?

_Isolate this,_ he thought, pulling a bandanna from his back pocket, and wrapped it around the boner, and started jerking.

"Jack," Daniel said quietly. Behind him now and off to the side.

Jack didn't answer. He kept working his dick, thumbing his cockhead. He sank back on his heels, blurred and dizzy with horrible pleasure, vibrations humming through his groin and his guts. His muscles felt like melted sugar, but he kept his fingers tight on the cotton cloth and whipped his hand, trying to bring himself off with his own foreskin.

He couldn't come. That didn't happen much, and when it did he went soft and he wasn't going soft now, but he knew his body and he knew this feeling. He'd rubbed himself raw enough to hurt, down under the masking arousal. Sometimes pain did it for him, when he was angry, when he wanted to punish himself, but even that wasn't enough to push him over now. He slowed his hand, then stopped. He shoved the boner back into his shorts and shoved the bandanna back into his pocket. He buttoned his pants and threaded his belt and let his hands drop.

"I won't have sex with you, Daniel," he said, from where he knelt.

"This effect won't wear off," Daniel said. "It'll only get worse."

Jack forced himself to his feet and stumbled back to the DHD. Cleared the address. Dialed out to an uninhabited planet. Mustered enough motor control to dig a spare walkie out of his pack, lob it through the wormhole, duct-tape his radio's transmit button to send a continuous signal. Keep anybody else from gating in for thirty-eight minutes. Give him a chance to think without two audiences to worry about. Then he moved away from the DHD, leaving his pack and Daniel's there, putting some distance between himself and the nearest silent crescent of aliens. Managed only a few yards before he went to his knees again.

Daniel followed, and sank down beside him. "The hormone overload could kill us, never mind what kind of damage the neural stimulation is doing."

"_Hormone overload?_"

"Adrenaline, bunch of other things. Like the armband. You really want me to wax scientific right now?"

"I didn't know you could do that kind of science."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Daniel took a shuddery breath, looking out into the distance, the globular clusters of the aliens' dwellings rising like pale mushrooms from groves of blue-leaved trees. "Here are two more things: I like sucking dick. I like taking it up the ass."

Trying to shock him. Worked, too. But the phrasing wasn't as shocking as the shock wand between his legs, and the content was nowhere near enough to persuade him that fucking a teammate was OK.

"I can probably come from either one of those acts without you having to touch my dick at all. So you pick one, Jack. Whichever one you think you can stand."

"_Not doing this_." Not doing anything in the next few minutes except not blowing chunks, not curling up in a mewling fetal ball in the dirt.

"We have no choice. You know that or you wouldn't have dialed out. You wouldn't care if another team came through and saw you jerking off."

"Which part of 'not doing this' did you not understand?"

Daniel sighed. His hands fell away from the belt he'd undone. His hair was soaked, his skin was pale, he was shaking. Different kind of shock. "I know the context is awful, Jack, but fundamentally it's just sex. It's not a thing."

Jack knew when Daniel was lying to him. "I'm not fucking you, Daniel. Anyone gets fucked here it's me, and nobody's getting fucked here, for any definition of 'fucking.'" He went to rub his face and jerked at the stinging snap of energy. Great. How come his own tongue in his mouth didn't do that, his own toes crammed together in his boots? Was it only fingers? "Should have taken that yoga class."

It surprised him when Daniel laughed. It didn't surprise him that Daniel followed his train of thought.

Jack tried to get to his feet and wound up on his ass, one leg bent, the other foot pushing weakly at the dirt.

"I guess that means blow job," Daniel said. "Unless you can get back up onto your knees."

"You are not going down on me. Help me up."

"Jack." Daniel didn't help him up. Daniel pressed his shoulder -- gently; prompting, not pushing. Sweet, tingling heat spread from his hand through the jacket and shirt, down into muscle and bone, warming and soothing. "Lie back. OK? Lie back and close your eyes. A mouth's a mouth. It won't change anything. It doesn't gross me out."

He couldn't think anymore. Sweetness and logical persuasion worked better on him than torture. He knew they were working. Knowing it didn't stop them from working. _Not like this,_ he thought. _Not like this._ His own head wasn't making sense anymore. He let Daniel press him back, and down, into the yielding soil. The white-glare sky punched his hyperdilated eyes even through his shades. He squinched his eyelids shut knowing Daniel couldn't see it. He couldn't stifle a moan when Daniel opened his pants, and Daniel hadn't even touched his bare skin yet.

_Not like this. Not you. Not like this._

"Easy," Daniel said, and laid a gentle hand on his thigh. Nothing sexual in the touch at all, but Jack couldn't help the whine that pushed through his nose. He couldn't tell Daniel that it wasn't from revulsion. "Pretend it's someone else," Daniel said. "OK? I'll stop talking now so you can do that."

The prospect of imagining that it was someone other than Daniel, the notion of it _being_ someone other than Daniel, shot a cramp of horror through his belly. He was dimly aware that something about that was seriously wrong, but he couldn't bring the thought clear, and he just blurted, "Don't stop talking."

"Gonna have to stop talking to suck you. Bet that solution never occurred to you, huh?"

Jack's laugh was amazed and miserable, but it had the effect Daniel must have intended: it eased the cramp and it damped the hum.

Could they laugh their way out of this? Sneeze their way out? Substitute some other paroxysmal muscular reflex thing for orgasm?

"I'm going to touch your penis now," Daniel said. "Just to pull it out and hold it up. OK?"

Jack forced his head to nod.

"My hands are cold. I'm sorry." Daniel picked up his erection as if he were picking up a pen, drawing it out into the air and upright. He didn't respond when Jack twitched; probably assumed it was from the chill in his fingers, or maybe he figured that in a state like this any touch would feel good. He'd tried to make Jack feel better by telling him he liked dick. Jack wanted to do the same, tell him he did too, tell him his fingers weren't cold at all but deliciously tingly-warm, but _thirty years of hiding it_ he couldn't, _could never touch Daniel in a friendly way again_ he couldn't, _once Daniel found that out he'd find out the rest of it_ he couldn't. Some of the conflict must have shown on his face, in the hard line of his mouth, because Daniel said, "Focus. Concentrate. Don't psych yourself out of it. Just come and it's over and nobody has to be penetrated and it never happened. It's a woman's mouth. It's a woman you want. It's not me."

_It is you. It is you._

Daniel bent down. Jack felt breath on his cockhead.

"Daniel no." He surged up, straightarming Daniel, hand fisted in his jacket. "I can't let you." It came out a growl. He meant it tenderly, and it came out like that.

"Jack." Daniel smiled. Sad smile, cold eyes. The combination was hideous. "Would you really rather die than let me spend a few seconds sucking you off?"

He'd kill them. He'd mow them all down. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't solve this. He bit down on his own cheek until the helpless rage passed.

"No," he said. "But I'd rather die than make you do it. Do you get that? Do you understand that?"

Daniel couldn't see his eyes behind the shades, but Daniel looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Yes. Because it's mutual. But it's hyperbole. We'd both rather live."

Jack couldn't get his fist to unclench. He pushed off to make himself let go, shoving away, scrabbling back. "Pepper in my pack," he said. "Baggie next to the MREs. Try sneezing."

"Jack -- "

"Or laughing. Two telepaths walk into a bar."

"Do you have a mirror in your pack?" Daniel asked. "Because if you could see yourself you'd know you don't have time to experiment."

As if to prove him right, nausea surged up through his gut, way stronger than the surges of electric current through his pelvis. Jack rolled over his own hip and down onto the other elbow and dry-retched. Print of an old sandal in the bluish soil, footprint made in the mud after a rain, crusted hard when the weather cleared. The edges sparkled with azure silicates. Dirt mites trundled along the roads provided by the imprint of the sole's tread.

"Hand job," he said. His voice was hoarse, but he knew Daniel could hear him. "I'll jerk you off. Ask them if that's enough. Sexual contact, exchange of fluids. Then you go back and get me some help."

Daniel twisted around, jabbered. Someone jabbered back.

"They don't know if that's 'joined' enough," Daniel said. "They don't understand sex organs."

"I mean enough of a show to get them to let some medical personnel through the gate. Worth a shot?"

"That pun doesn't translate into their language."

"Joke's not for them."

Daniel asked; they answered; Daniel said, "Yeah. Worth a try. But I'm jerking you. That's non-negotiable. You're worse off."

Jack's palsied shaking was bad enough that he doubted his ability to get Daniel off even if he insisted. His judgment was beyond impaired. He couldn't see any other way out of this. If it worked, he'd be able to do Daniel, and then they could go home and he could start the long process of turning the feel of Daniel's erection in his hand from a memory back into a dream, and letting it go. He rolled back onto his butt. He nodded.

"Is that a yes, or another nod and you'll change your mind as soon as I start?"

"Yes," Jack said. "Yes. Do it."

To reach his dick without facing him Daniel had to push up close, knees spread out wide and body almost right up against his. It was a terrible angle and a worse situation. But Daniel's touch -- oh, christ, Daniel's _hand_. Tender on the soreness, competent and assured, considerate and aware. He didn't grab, he didn't fist, he didn't pump. He laid the pads of his fingers along the shaft and pressed into the resistance of his thumb on the other side. The tremors in his body didn't transfer down his arm. He moved the foreskin up and down, slow and sure, and it was easygoing and gentle and friendly, and when it sped it up it was smooth and controlled and encouraging, not desperate or hurried. The pleasure in it had nothing to do with the heat the device had artificially induced. It was _the perfect touch_, and he could feel the truth in it -- that Daniel loved him and wanted to save him, that Daniel's hand loved the feel of dick. Except for the jiggling arm, Daniel's body was completely still; he was a study in chivalry, head turned politely aside, not even _looking_. Jack could feel the tremors in his legs, hear his breath coming short, feel the clamminess of his hand under the steady flow of fake warmth. The heat and the vibrations were spreading through his whole body now, tingling through his chest and down his arms and legs, trembling through his lips, his tongue, rippling across his scalp. He didn't want to give in to the machine, not even to beat it; he didn't want to give the aliens what they wanted. But it was Daniel's hand on his cock, Daniel masturbating him, _Daniel_, "Daniel -- "

Every nerve in his body fired. His balls clenched, his dick spurted, his boot heels gouged furrows in the dirt. He groped over, slapped his hand onto Daniel's thigh, gripped hard. Daniel's hand was catching semen on each upstroke, stroking it back down, coating his skin, coating Jack's dick. Jack's head went back and he groaned relief and release. Daniel's motions stuttered and he made a choking sound, head dropping; for a few seconds he froze; then he sagged. His hand woke up, wrapped around, squeezed gently and slowly to nurse the last drops out.

The neural hum took a while to subside, and when it had, Jack's bones felt itchy, as if some residual vibration was still banging around in there. The device-induced warmth faded right away, but the tender sweetness in Daniel's touch didn't subside at all, and Daniel didn't yank his hand away. He cradled Jack's penis while it softened, soothing it and protecting it. His head lifted a little. Jack felt warm breath on his neck. For a couple of seconds, he thought Daniel was going to press lips to the bare skin between his collar and his hairline, and the skin contracted with yearning to be kissed, but of course no kiss came. His hand on Daniel's thigh had gone limp. He closed it a little, squeezed a little, patted. The breath on his neck lifted away.

"You OK now?" Daniel asked. His voice was very low. Its timbre shivered into Jack's orgasm-softened skin, and its quiet gentleness stroked Jack's aching heart.

"Yeah," Jack said. "You?"

"Yeah. The effects are gone."

Jack hesitated, then said, "You came?"

"Apparently what I predicted applies to manual sex too," Daniel said, dryly, but just as low. The goddamn bedroom voice was going to kill him. "I should get my hand off you now, right?"

Jack couldn't choke out an answer. Daniel took silence for a yes, and carefully disengaged his sticky fingers, laying Jack's penis gently along a fold of his shorts instead of leaving it to dangle exposed over the dirt. He dug in a pocket, reached a wet-wipe packet around to Jack, then shifted back and pushed to his feet.

"I'm gonna change," he said.

"Yeah," Jack said, and didn't look up.

The crowd was dispersing, as silently as they'd stood there.

While Jack wiped and tucked and fastened, Daniel went over to his pack and pulled out a spare pair of briefs. The three representatives came over to him and stood in a semicircle. They started talking to him, still in unison but now in an eerie kind of dissonant three-part harmony. Daniel didn't answer them. To Jack's surprise, he ignored them completely. Just plunked down in the dirt to take off his boots, stood up to strip out of pants and briefs and wipe and dry his groin. He stuffed the wet underwear away in a plastic bag, put the clean underwear on, put his pants back on, plunked back down to put his boots back on, and the whole time they were jabbering at him, and he didn't jabber back. He didn't even look at them.

Jack clipped his P-90 back on and went over to untape his radio so the wormhole would shut down. The aliens by the DHD jabbered to him; he shrugged and turned to offer Daniel a hand up. No eerie tingly-sweet heat, no clammy sweat. Just Daniel's warm, familiar skin, Daniel's strong, ordinary grip.

"They're sorry yadda," Daniel said. "We passed the test blah blah blah."

Jack snorted. "They're sorry _now_?"

Daniel looked away. "Yeah. Well." He took a breath, and when he looked at Jack again, his expression was relaxed, friendly, composed. "You wanna dial?"

"Daniel," Jack said, drawing the first syllable out, midway between drawling a warning and calling on him at a meeting, Daniel's evasiveness setting off every warning bell in his head.

Daniel cocked his jaw stubbornly, then let out a harsh sigh. "All right. I guess it's better to say this here, since obviously what happens here stays here." He looked, suddenly, very tired. "They didn't realize that I ... " He stopped. Started again. "They could tell that everyone on our team shared a strong bond, but there was something different about the bond between you and me and they wanted to find out more about it. Their society is built on a complex hierarchy of empathic connection, and evidently that device demonstrates bonding in a public way that lets them ... I don't know, rank people, categorize them. It amplifies whatever's going on with the people it's used on. It manifested the way it did because I ... want you. Sexually, romantically, whatever, please let me finish before you freak. It seems that I hid it so well that even with their empathic abilities they couldn't sense what kind of feelings I had for you before they activated the device, and then there was no alternative but to let it play out. They didn't know it would go like that." He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Jack. "Neither did I."

Jack stared hard at him for a long few seconds, riding the waves of stunned disbelief and futile hope and inarticulate rage until they broke on a flat shore and he was capable of speech. Then he said, "If you think I'd accuse you of manipulating this situation to cop a feel, you are seriously misjudging me."

Levelly, Daniel said, "Good. Then can I assume you'll put this conversation behind us and let me go on handling my issues in private?"

"If that's what you want," Jack said. "But I think you're giving your issues too much weight."

"Well, I'm sorry if you feel I'm _worrying unduly_, Jack, but something _really fucking crappy_ just happened to a friend of mine because I didn't sufficiently -- "

"It 'amplifies whatever's going on with the people it's used on'? Don't you think that if you were the only one with that particular issue, it would have had some other effect on me?"

Daniel's head blinked back. For a second he looked stone blank, and if Jack hadn't been so scared and pissed about the bullet they just dodged and the territory they were stepping into, he'd have laughed, because it was impossible to tell whether what startled Daniel most was Jack's admission or his own failure of logic. Then he blinked again, thoughtfully, brows raised, and said, "Huh."

"Said your name when I came."

"Yes, I noticed. I thought ... "

"What?"

"I don't know. I thought it might be a last, you know, protest against the whole thing. Or relief. Or just a polite warning."

"None of the above. I was just glad it was you. You my friend, or you my more-than-that. You, either way."

"So you ... "

"Yes, Daniel. Sexually, romantically, whatever."

"But you ... "

"Yeah, well, I'd be out of a job if I couldn't keep shit like that buried so deep even an empath couldn't find it. But that gizmo put it to the test, all right."

"It tests bonds," Daniel said. "I guess in a way they were right about ... us. There was a mystery there. A missing connection."

"Damn good thing one of the batteries wasn't cracked," Jack said darkly, glancing over at the three remaining aliens, who'd backed a respectful distance away, and were still staring at them with expressionless faces but had their hands folded up against their chests in what might, maybe, be contrition.

"When the device connected the black jumper cable, you mean?"

This time it did surprise him that Daniel caught the metaphor, but this time he didn't think Daniel was following his full train of thought. "What if we'd been pissed at each other? What if the shit we carried in here was some vicious repressed aggression?" He forced his voice down, managed not to shout. "What if I'd gotten stuck here with somebody like Kinsey? _What would that thing have tried to make me do?_"

Daniel thought about that for a while, then said "Hang on" and went over to talk to the aliens. Jack slung his pack on and started dialing. No way was he waiting here until Carter finished her evaluation of the stuff she brought back. No way was anyone from his team coming back here. One of the diplomatic-scientific teams could handle things from here on out. And only if Daniel got the assurance Jack figured he'd gone over to ask the representatives for. And if the technology was worth the risk of counting on that assurance.

"They say they trade with other races," Daniel said when he came back, "and they only ever test them once. They say they won't use a device like that on humans again. I couldn't get them to acknowledge that using the device on us like that was in itself an aggressive act, or agree to warn any non-human potential trading partners. A warning contaminates the data."

"I'll just bet it does," Jack said. Judging from the lack of fear response when he drilled the gizmo, they didn't understand aggression any more than sexuality. He was sorely tempted to give them a more pointed display. It was really time for him to get out of here. He lifted Daniel's pack, saw it was riding low once it was on, resisted the urge to adjust the straps for him. "We good to go?"

"I don't know," Daniel said, and turned to face him, trying to shrug the pack comfortable. "Are we?"

The pack wasn't seating right. Could be something in the atmosphere affecting the materials; could be that some of the chronic tension had gone out of Daniel's shoulders. Jack stepped close, and snugged the straps. "I'm open to bringing this back," he said. "If you're not, for any reason, I respect that. That's all we have to decide right now."

Daniel huffed in mild disbelief. "That's a _huge decision_."

"Not for me," Jack said. "Easiest decision I'll ever make."

"If I say I want to pursue this at home, does that mean we're going to kiss or something? 'Cause you realize you are right up in my face." Daniel was very close to laughing now. The weary look was gone, and his eyes were soft and sparkling.

"Rather not give those guys the satisfaction," Jack said. "But if you want to pursue this at home, I'll consider it a top priority."

"And if pursuing this at home were to lead to, say, me going down on you, there'd be none of that stopping me as soon as I started thing, right?"

"None of that stopping thing at all," Jack said.

He'd stepped in so close that their tac vests brushed. Daniel leaned into it until their mouths were barely a breath apart and said, "You must have really liked that hand job."

"You do give a hell of a hand job."

"Wait 'til you find out what I can do with my ass."

Jack grinned, then let go and chuckled out loud, delighted by the deliberate taunt, the bright amusement in Daniel's eyes, the insolent curve of his lips. "You make me gate back with a hard-on, it's gonna be _very hard_ to cover up what happened here."

"Then I guess you'd better finish dialing."

Yeah, they were good to go.

&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;

That night, hilt-deep in Daniel's muscular, sucking ass, fucking Daniel's tongue with his inside their molded mouths, drinking in the vibrations of Daniel's groaning orgasm, he held Daniel's pulsing cock in his hand, rubbing and squeezing, turning a dream into the first of a lifetime of memories he was never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 


End file.
